


a kiss of death

by venomedveins



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Blood Play, Cute Little Halloween Fic, Dancing, M/M, Seduction, Smut, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2540246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grasping Nasir's hand, Agron slowly spins him, taking him all in, even inch of the costume barely covering his little tan body, before guiding him out towards the dancing crowd. People part, almost unconsciously, watching with red tinted eyes as the right hand of the Rebel King leads his little human pet onto the main floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a kiss of death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crazzzedope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazzzedope/gifts).



> for my darling crazzzedope. happy hallooween bb!

Agron flexes his fingers, staring out across the ballroom. It had been Naevia's idea for them to hosting a gathering of sorts, inviting all the vampire clans in the surrounding area to a ball on Halloween. Agron had laughed when he had initially heard it. How fucking cliche. But Spartacus, surprisingly had agreed. How were they supposed to gain trust among the smaller clans and win their favor in the rebellion if they acted like the suppressors they were against?

The smell of blood hangs heavy in the air, flowing from fountains based in the corners. Agron can tell it's human, probably bought from some overfilled hospital. They won't miss a few dozen bags of the stuff considering that Spartacus paid high price for it. It was easier than hunting out the prey, less messy with storing abilities. 

Unhooking his mask for just a moment, Agron glances down at his costume. He doesn't know why they were forced to dress up, something that Nasir had begged for. _Nasir_. Fuck, even the name sent ripples of pleasure down his spine. A rescued little runaway from some big city. Agron can't even remember. He had been with the clan for six months before Agron had made his move. Six long moths of smelling the teenager everywhere, scenting his blood in the air every time Nasir was near, nearly tasting it every time Nasir would over exude himself. 

Crixus claimed it wasn't right. He thought that Agron shouldn't have a pet, especially someone that the was kept as a body slave. They had rescued him from one of those Roman clan's underground brothels of sorts. Nasir was kept as a play thing, something to be used for food but also sex. The vampire who kept him was a mousy little thing though and when they had freed all the human slaves, Crixus had delighted in killing him. 

Crixus didn't want to keep Nasir. He was barely fifteen at the time, and seemed too loyal to the Romans who had kidnapped him as a child to raise as a body slave. Agron could barely regard his claims though, considering that Naevia had been human until Crixus was forced to turn her in face of certain death. She had nearly been treated to the same fair that Nasir had. That had been many years ago, and these things seem to blur with time. 

Nasir woke something deep inferno within Agron. From the very first time he had tasted his lips, felt the blood rise in his body as Agron had taken him, laid out flat in his huge bed. Nasir had been the one to ask him to drink, taking a tiny fruit knife out from between the sheets. He had stared so defiantly into Agron's eyes as he traced the blade across his chest, a quick little line above one hard, dusty nipple. Blood had bubbled to the surface, crimson against tan, the rich scent filling Agron's nostrils and forcing his fangs to descend. 

“Drink it,” Nasir had murmured, gripping down hard on Agron's cock. He had been mid-thrust when Nasir showed his true intentions. 

“Are you sure?” Agron had hesitated, so filled with lust – for blood and flesh – he could barely stand it. He didn't want to hurt him though. The taking of someone's blood, especially not for the kill but for pleasure, was something intimate – to be cherished. 

Nasir hadn't answered, just dragged his fingers through the blood and rubbed the liquid on his own lips. Surging up on his elbows, he had captured Agron's mouth with his own, the deep and thick sweetness of his blood smeared between and to Agron's tongue when they met. 

With half lidded eyes, Nasir had gripped the back of Agron's head, twisting the hair in a fist and led his mouth down and down and down until Agron traced his tongue over the nipples, nibbling at it, and then sucked. The most intoxicating taste broke through as he moved his lips over the wound, teeth pressing to the flesh but not into it. Nasir had squirmed below him, giving soft little “oh”s and moans, raising a fever in Agron that he had never known. 

Adjusting the lapels of his costume, Agron shifted again, smelling the air. He was dressed as a demon, with horns curling at his temples and a tight black suit with the first three buttons undone. His mask, since Naevia insisted it had to be a masquerade is black with just the faintest hint of red glitter woven in the fabric. 

He hadn't coordinated with Nasir. He hadn't seen the little Syrian boy all day, having spent all his time in the company of Crixus and Spartacus, making sure every detail of the get together was perfect. At first, Agron had forbidden Nasir to go. It was too much of a risk. Nasir's blood was sweet, unlike anything Agron had tasted, and it was dangerous to have him prancing around through so many hungry strange vampires. Others had brought their pets, wandering among the crowd but never straying too far from the watchful masters. 

Nasir had thrown a temper tantrum, throwing things that Agron easily caught and set upon table. He had cried and when that hadn't worked, had threatened to not let Agron drink from him ever again. Agron had been forced to raise his voice, fangs coming down in a snarl. Standing defiant, Nasir had made to hit Agron, only for the vampire to move faster than Nasir could see, pinning him roughly to bed. 

Discussion had ensued as Agron had rolled his body against Nasir's, whispering harshly about all the things that could happen to him if Agron turned away for just a moment. It was Nasir's watery gaze and his cries for Agron that changed his mind. Nasir deserved to be shown off, watched with envy as he moved through the vampires, a human of status and desire. 

Flashing lights and the thumping beat, and Agron's eyes still draw instantly to him when he enters the room. Hips wrapped in a thick black fabric covered in shiny disks of gold, the briefs are hidden under sheer pants, split all the way up the side and gathered only at the waist and ankle. Dozens of gold bracelets adore his wrists, thin strands of spun gold around his waist and through his navel ring, a belt of crimson jewels and light. It's the match to his headdress, woven through his hair to hold his veil in place, delicately over his nose and mouth, thick enough to almost hide his smirk – almost. 

A sash of scarlet fabric wraps itself around Nasir's waist, hanging out to be held in Nasir's hands. He's a fucking belly dancer and moves such, rolling his hips slowly but with the beat, seeming to part the whole ballroom as he moves towards Agron. 

The closer he gets, the easier it is for Agron to see his dark lined eyes, mouth stained crimson. It's not what draws his and a dozen other's eyes though. It's the dark mark, the deep bruise right on his neck where Agron had fed from him hours earlier, sucked the hickie while he took tiny doses of blood. It's not an invitation to others though they all seem to think it is. 

“Good evening,” Nasir nods, just a slight tip of his head, “Or is it morning to you?”

“It's afternoon,” Agron smirks, looking down at Nasir slowly, taking in all the details up close. 

Nasir is covered in flecks of gold glitter. They dance across his sin, illuminating it in the flashing strobe lights of the party. Agron wants to taste him, sink his teeth in and drink and drink and drink until Nasir quivers and comes apart in his hands. 

“You look awfully grumpy for someone attending a Halloween party.” Nasir notes, dark rimmed eyes staring knowingly up at Agron. 

“Not much here to entertain me.” Shrugging, Agron adjusts his mask. 

“Maybe I can help. Can I dance for you?” Slowly swaying his hips, Nasir twists his arms above his head, not aware of the eyes that track the movement. It is like dangling a piece of meat before ravenous wolves.

“If you so wish,” Agron nods his head slightly, reaching out to gently trace the edge of Nasir's veil. The fabric ripples when Nasir smiles, pulled higher on his cheeks.

“Would you rather dance with me?” Nasir asks, stepping closer to run his fingers along the sharp cut of Agron's suit, “I am your pet, after all, and wish only to please you.”

“My pet? I thought you hated being called that,” Agron smirked, moving his fingers under the soft fabric to Nasir's smooth jaw, cupping his chin between too fingers to raise his face. He can feel Nasir's pulse when he touches his neck, thumping hard and fast, nerves making him smell even sweeter.

“If I'm not your pet, then people will think I'm up for grabs. That I'm more of a toy, something that can be put down and taken up by someone else. You wouldn't want that, would you?” Nasir asks and Agron can feel his grin against his fingers. 

“No. I wouldn't.” 

It's true. Agron doesn't technically own Nasir. He is free to leave if he really wants to, but Agron knows he doesn't. Nasir is too addicted to the lifestyle. Too invested in helping protect their secrets. Too willing when it comes to being with Agron, so eager to have the vampire always near to him. Even when he knows it's forbidden to lay with a vampire while they sleep, a danger to both – who knows how a deeply asleep Agron would react to being woken in the bright afternoon sun – Nasir still sneaks down the hall to crawl into bed with him. Agron has grown used to it, and usually just rolls over to nuzzle against Nasir in his sleep. If Nasir wanted to kill him, he would have already. 

Grasping Nasir's hand, Agron slowly spins him, taking him all in, even inch of the costume barely covering his little tan body, before guiding him out towards the dancing crowd. People part, almost unconsciously, watching with red tinted eyes as the right hand of the Rebel King leads his little human pet onto the main floor. There is a desire there, for both of them. Agron is a figure head in the rebellion. Not as important as Spartacus, but still high ranked and respected. Nasir is a key point of interest for others too. Usually when a clan has a human pet, they pass them around. The whole clan has access, and yet Nasir only smells like Agron, only is marked by his noticeable bite. It's a curious thing for a human to be devoted to only one. 

Agron is careful when he places his hand against Nasir's back, always remembering to be gentle – to some degree. Nasir is very breakable under Agron's immortal strength, a fact Agron constantly has to remind himself of when he buries himself inside Nasir. When the little human had first taken up in Agron's bed, Spartacus had insisted on warning Agron about the dangers. He could easily snap Nasir's neck with the wrong move, chap his skin from too cold of fingers. Agron always had to be conscious of his actions, when he fed so he could be warm and pliable to Nasir's desperate hands. 

Stepping back from Agron, Nasir sways his hips slowly from side to side, light twinkling on all the gold glitter. His breath gasps into the air, filling it with the indescribable fragrance of mortality. He dips his body down lower, using his grip on the crimson sash to guide his movements. It's intoxicating, the grind of his hips, stomach contorting over and over again. Agron has no idea where Nasir learned to belly dance, but he's entranced, unable to shift his gaze away. 

Spinning in a slow circle, Nasir rolls his hips in more forward thrusts, bending a the waist to brush his fingertips across the floor and stand back up, arching his ass towards Agron. The more Nasir moves, the faster his blood pumps, filling the air around him with the heady scent of copper and flora. It clings to Nasir, a mixture of honey suckle and something else – something deeper. It creates almost like a pheromone around him, forcing Agron half a step forward before he remembers himself. 

Keeping his hands above his head, Nasir turns around to meet Agron's red tinted gaze, smirking behind his veil at the lust clearly found there. He doesn't stop, but keeps his movements sure and steady as he draws closer to Agron. He can see the vampire's fingers twitching, wanting to reach out and touch, the very tips of his fangs making indents in his bottom lip. 

“You're seducing half the room,” Agron murmurs, loud enough he knows Nasir can hear. Numerous red eyes gleam in the flashing strobes, inching closer at Nasir's display.

“Shame. I only meant to seduce you.” 

Nasir's grin is smothered as Agron moves at unseeable speeds to stand before him, wrapping an arm tightly around Nasir's waist. He snarls at the few men who are closest, holding Nasir firmly against his side and making a point to show his claim. They draw back, growling and hissing, but they won't test Agron's authority in the matter.

“Did I do something wrong?” Nasir asks, blinking those huge whiskey eyes up at Agron. He's still so new to vampire politics. 

"You smell-" Agron begins, only to sniff the air and groan.

"Do you want a taste?" Nasir tilts his head back, exposing his neck, eager to please. 

Agron grips the side of it, trailing his thumb down and along Nasir's jugular. It pulses against him, begging for Agron to sink his fangs in, let the crimson spill in delicious surges all over his tongue. He wants to, so fucking much, but not in front of all the others. The sight and sounds would drive them into a frenzy, and though Agron would do his best to protect Nasir, there is no saying what a swarm of hungry immortals would do to them. 

“Yes, but not here,” Agron murmurs, trailing his fingers through Nasir's inky black hair and along his smooth back, ending with his thumb playing with the elastic waistband on his pants.

“We can go back upstairs,” Nasir whispers into Agron's ear, trying to keep the words low enough so that only he can hear, rolling his hips up against Agron's. “I don't have to be wearing the costume to move like this.”

“I have to stay here for a little while, make face,” Agron frowns, already cursing the damn party. He would love to lead Nasir upstairs and completely forget about their guests, but Spartacus requires them all to stay for a least a few hours. “It's part of my duty to go talk to people.”

“Oh.” Agron can feel the pout against his chest as Nasir rests his head there. 

“Don't pout,” Agron says in a warning tone, pulling Nasir back to look at him, “I have duties to Spartacus, you know that.”

“I know,” Nasir sighs, fingertips sliding up and down the lapels of Agron's suit, “I'll stay with you and keep you company, if you want. Charm all the other vampires into supporting the cause.”

“Of course,” Agron grins, cupping Nasir's cheek in his large palm, “You are my biggest asset.”

Nasir's fingers come up and slide into his hair, unhooking his veil on one side to free his full mouth. He barely has time to pucker up before Agron is leaning down, kissing him. His fangs haven't completely retracted though, and they press dangerously against Nasir's tongue, nearly splitting the skin. Nasir presses harder, eager for the dizzying pleasure of having the vampire drink from him, and Agron is forced to gently but firmly push him away.

“Careful,” Agron warns, keeping his hands up and cupping Nasir's beautiful face, “If I draw blood from you, we're going to start a frenzy.”

“I am only for you though,” Nasir pouts again, nibbling on his bottom lip. Agron gently pulls the flesh from between Nasir's teeth with his thumb. 

“You are, but others won't be so keen on me not sharing,” Agron replies, lifting Nasir's veil back up after pecking his mouth gently, “I don't want anyone thinking they should test the boundaries.”

“Do other vampires share their pets?” Nasir raises an eyebrow, letting Agron lead him out of the throng of people and into a more secluded alcove on the wall. 

“They do,” Agron confesses, cringing a little, “It's more of an old custom though. Something those Roman clan fucks put into play. You are not a snack to be passed around though. I know you know this. You were in their custody for long enough.”

“But you aren't like them? You feed from me.” Nasir asks confused, suddenly feeling apprehension bubble in his chest. Was he less than he thought he was to Agron?

“I feed from you because you offer it to me, freely. You know you could push me away at any time and I would have to respect that. You were brought into this world to be someone's blood supply, but you stay because you choose to.” Agron sighs, gently petting Nasir's cheek through the sheer fabric, “If you wanted to leave, leave me and all of this behind, I would set you up in the mortal world and you could return to it. You'd never have to want for anything and you'd never have to come back unless you chose to.”

“You would just leave me alone?” Nasir asks, bottom lip trembling, “Just cast me out like some unwanted toy?”

“You are not a toy to me.” Agron shakes his head vehemently, “You are Nasir – my beautiful, little mortal – but if you wanted to return to the world of the living I would not and could not tell you no. You have that freedom.”

“But I don't want to leave you!” Nasir suddenly shouts, nearly hysterical, and drawing the attention of a few vampires passing by. 

“I don't want you to leave me either,” Agron shushes, comforting Nasir by pulling him close, “I'm just saying you have the choice.”

“I'll never leave you,” Nasir shakes his head, body softly jingling from all his bracelets, “I won't. I'll die before I do.”

“You think I would let you die?” Agron asks gently, petting through Nasir's long hair. 

“You're not allowed to change me,” Nasir sniffles, and Agron can smell the saltiness of his tears. 

“I would find a way, Nasir,” Agron promises, lifting the other's head to kiss his forehead, “You know I would.”

“To be forever at your side?” Nasir asks, big watery eyes staring up at Agron in the purest adoration. 

“Forever.” Agron nods, smiling down at him. 

Nasir sighs happily, nuzzling his face against Agron's broad chest. He would become a vampire, stay young, if it meant that Agron would never leave him and he would never leave Agron. Mortality seems like such a waste now. He doesn't want to leave Spartacus or Mira or Naevia or anyone in their makeshift clan, a mixture of old and new immortals. He wants to stay with them, join their cause. 

“Hello you two,” Pietros suddenly appears behind them, dressed as a nurse with soft white scrubs and a hat, grin stretching across his face.

“Pietros,” Agron nods to the boy over the top of Nasir's head. He can feel Nasir's nose dragging along his collarbones, breathing in his scent.

“I've been told to kindly remind Agron that he's supposed to be working and not cuddling up to his midnight snack,” Pietros' grin doesn't leave his face, “By way of Barca and Crixus.”

“I can't just leave him,” Agron frowns, allowing Nasir to turn around. He keeps Agron's arm tightly around him though, long fingers stroking along Agron's sleeved forearm.

“I'll hang out with him,” Pietros shrugs, reaching out to twist a strand of Nasir's hair around his finger.

“I don't need a baby sitter,” Nasir pouts, tilting his head up to look at Agron. “I can help.”

“Go hang out with Pietros. Let me do what I need to do,” Agron kisses the top of Nasir's head, gently pushing him away. 

Nasir wants to protest, wants to follow Agron, but he lets Pietros grip his hand, lead him away. He knows it's part of Agron's job. He wants to help, but in some things he just can't. Sometimes, and Nasir hates it, but he knows that he's a liability. He's the weakness in Agron's tough, unbreakable shield. He has to hide in the shadows so that this fragile but growing cause continues. 

 

\- - - 

 

The party lasts for hours, windows covered by thick cloth to hide out the sun when it rises. Nasir spends time with Pietros, dancing on the outskirts of the main throng. He's not allowed to be by himself, but Pietros is good company, even though he covers his nose the whole time they have to sneak Nasir down to the kitchen to eat. He doesn't like it when the vampires are around while he eats. It reminds him too much of how different they actually are.

He sees Agron a few times, weaving in and out amongst the crowd, following Spartacus like a body guard but also adviser. He wrinkles his nose towards Nasir, a cute little exchange that could be passed off as Agron having an itch. Nasir knows it's for him though, sees his eyes glittering in the dark. 

Eventually though, after hours of dancing, drinking secret wine, and talking happily amongst the vampires Nasir is allowed to be with, he can barely keep his eyes open. He manages to sneak away from Pietros when he's distracted by Barca, finding a small opening in the wall to slide into. Nasir curls up against the stone, wrapping his sash around his arms as a blanket, barely being able to find a comfortable position before he's asleep. 

When Nasir wakes, he isn't sure at first where he is. Surrounded by hard warmth, cool breath on his face, but when he opens his eyes it's not Agron he sees but the grim face of Barca. He notices when Nasir stirs, holding him a little tighter so as to keep the squirming human still. 

“I'm taking you to your room,” Barca murmurs, deep voice cutting through the noise. 

“Where is Agron?” Nasir asks, going to rub his eye but remembering the liner that is smudged around it. 

“Last time I saw him, he was with Spartacus. He asked me to take you upstairs,” Barca frowns, “After we found you.”

“I just wanted a little nap,” Nasir yawns, scratching at his nose through his veil, “I was so tired.”

“Here we are.” 

Barca swings Nasir down to his feet, steadying him with a firm hand on his back. Unlocking the large wooden door, Barca leads Nasir forward and into the entry way of Agron's suite. His bedroom is sectioned off by a large curtain spun with a decorative pattern. Nasir is supposed to sleep in a room to the left, smaller and more modest, but he never does. He always finds a way back into Agron's. 

Nasir looks up at Barca, about to say his thanks, when he hears his name called. Turning, Nasir doesn't even hear the click of the door as he pads silently across the plush carpet to Agron's bedroom. At first, Nasir doesn't even see him, squinting in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Then, Agron's large silhouette moves against the window, turning slowly to face Nasir. 

“Hi,” Nasir smiles, but it falters slightly as Agron steps across the room. 

He's pulled off most of his costume, losing his suit jacket and horns, mask tossed on the small end table. He moves across the room while unbuttoning his vest, thick fingers sliding over tiny buttons, leaving it on but open as he slowly sits down in a chair. Agron's shoulders fill the chair, so wide against the back, forearms powerfully settling on the arm rests. His legs spread open, thick line of his cock pressed up against the linen of his pants. He's half hard, but his face doesn't betray it, staring almost indifferently up at Nasir. 

Raising two fingers, Agron motions for Nasir to come in further, dropping his hand back to the chair when Nasir reaches the center of the room. The lamp light shines across his skin, dancing specks of gold, glinting on the bracelets and chairs. He really is a vicious, worthy of the highest sultan's harem. 

“Did you eat?” Agron asks, green eyes glinting in the dark light. 

“Yes,” Nasir nods, hesitating. He is entranced as Agron's body tenses, flexing and pulling the fabric of his shirt tight against the buttons. It seems almost like Agron will burst out of it, body so firm and big. Nasir wants to be swallowed whole by him. 

“Did you enjoy the party?” Agron asks again, raising one eyebrow slowly. 

“Very much,” Nasir nods quickly. 

“Enough you fell asleep hidden away when I specifically told you to stay with Pietros?” Agron asks, hand casually moving to rest on his knee. 

“I'm sorry.” Nasir ducks his head, knowing that he's disappointed Agron, made him fear for him. 

“Are you?” Agron stares out across the room at Nasir, eyes gleaming in the light, electric green. “You directly disobeyed me, knowing I only instructed you to keep you safe.”

“I am sorry,” Nasir nods earnestly. “I was tired. I didn't want to ruin the party for the others; Pietros was having so much fun. I only meant to nap for just a few minutes.”

Agron regards Nasir with narrowed eyes, watching for any of his tell-tale signs of lying. Nasir is still though, big eyes staring at him like endless pools of amber and tourmaline. He is right, of course, to be annoyed at Nasir for sneaking off, but it is also the vampire's fault for forgetting the human parts of Nasir, the ones that need food and rest and sunlight. He should have reminded Pietros.

“Take off your clothes,” Agron instructs, eyes not leaving Nasir, even as he lowers his hand to his cock. lightly resting it against the throbbing flesh. 

Nasir doesn't hesitate, dropping the crimson sash still wrapped around his shoulders. It flutters to the ground, shimmering and pooling at his feet. Making a show of slowly trailing his fingers along his waistband, Nasir begins untying the belt of tiny gold disks, letting it tinker as it drops to the floor in a heap. Hooking his thumbs in the elastic of his briefs, he pushes it down and down before bending to unhook the pants from around his ankles. Revealing a small nestle of curls at the base, Nasir's cock strains up hard and proud against his stomach, already flushed red. 

Lastly, Nasir tangles his fingers in his hair, unhooking his veil and dropping to the side. He goes to reach for the jeweled headdress woven in his hair, only for Agron to raise his hand. 

“Leave it.”

Agron's eyes rove over Nasir's body like the most appetizing meal. He's still so soft, so young, standing there in nothing but his gold embellishments, exotic with curled hair and dark lined eyes. The glitter only highlights the beautiful caramel of Nasir's skin, stained pink under the attention. He doesn't lower his eyes, but seems to be barely breathing, waiting on the very edge. 

“You look as if you are a royal dancer in some Arabian court,” Agron says offhandedly, voice deeper than before, eyes meeting Nasir's again, “Dance for me.”

“There is no music.” Nasir's chest turns a deeper red, inching towards his cheeks. 

“Pretend.”

Nasir licks his lips slowly, trailing his hand up his side as he arches to the side, swinging his hip. He sways back and forth, closing his eyes into half lids as he tilts his head back, turning around on his heel. Chains of gold slide along his hips, one sliding lower, rubies gleaming against Nasir's smooth ass. 

Agron doesn't allow himself the pleasure of leaning forward, but with his heightened sight, he can see clearly every freckle and sliver of light on his skin. It's entrancing, the way Nasir's body concaves as he dips and swings. Agron is sure that Nasir could seduce the blind just by being in the room with them. 

When Nasir turns around again, he can't help the way his eyes widen, watching Agron's thick fist slowly massaging at his cock. It stands proud and hard against the fabric, a wet spot already gleaming near the waistband from where it leaks. Nasir's mouth fills with spit, wanting to crawl forward on his hands and knees if he must, to taste it. 

“Come here,” Agron murmurs after a moment, motioning with one hand. 

Gracefully but quickly, Nasir moves across the floor, coming to stand between Agron's spread legs. He doesn't touch him, he hasn't been allowed yet, so fucking deep he can't look away from Agron. He's so in control, so powerful leaning back like a king in his throne. Nasir can feel the hair on the back of his neck, feeling very much like prey, and yet he can't even entertain the idea of running.

Keeping one hand on his cock, Agron leans forward, trailing the back of his hand along Nasir's leg. The skin is so smooth, warm and pulsing with blood. He is the perfect cherub, watching with dark eyes but not moving. Agron traces his fingers all the way down to wrap around Nasir's ankle, slowly raising his foot to place it against the arm rest, spreading Nasir's legs wide. 

Scooting forward in his throne, Nasir refuses to think of it as anything else, Agron lays a line of soft kisses up Nasir's calf, lapping at the soft skin along Nasir's knee. He can nearly trace the veins with his tongue, throbbing under his lips. Raising his eyes, Agron makes sure he has Nasir's undivided attention when he reaches his thigh, sucking hard on the skin to bruise it before letting his fangs break the skin. 

“Nghhh!” Nasir cries out, mouth dropping in shock and pleasure. It hurts, yes, but the feeling of Agron drinking from him fires ecstasy up his groin. 

Nasir's legs give out and he would topple if it wasn't for Agron's strength, guiding Nasir's other knee to rest against the soft cushion of the chair. He can barely breathe, eyes fluttering shut as Agron pulls back, lapping over the new bite mark. It tingles when Agron drags his fangs lightly across the mark, a tease of a threat for more. Nasir would let him. He would let Agron bite him anywhere, drink for as long as he likes, knowing Agron would never take too much. He's too in control of himself, so honed in on his own power that Nasir never has to be afraid of him. 

His thighs tremble under the attention as Agron sucks little kisses up and down the soft skin. Nasir is so fucking warm, sweat sliding down his back, curling his hair. His blood pounds even harder when Agron slips his fangs back into the mark, slowly drawing another dose of blood from him, making Nasir's head swim. He knows the bruise will be dark, a claim, but Nasir stopped caring about such things months ago. 

Wrapping his arm tightly around Nasir's waist, Agron retracts his fangs and stands, lifting the human off his feet and wrapping his legs firmly around Agron's waist. He's so light, barely feeling like any sort of weight in Agron's supernaturally strong arms. It reminds Agron how breakable Nasir is, how fragile his mortality. Kissing him, Agron moves slowly but with purpose, backing them up towards the bed and roughly throwing Nasir down upon the dark sheets when they reach it. He bounces a little, jewelry tinkling together, staring up at Agron dazed.

Yanking his vest down his arms, Agron begins unbuttoning his shirt, only to lose patience and rip it off instead. A shower of buttons clatter to the floor, getting lost in the thick carpet and scattering under the table. Agron ignores it in favor of reaching for his belt, whipping it through the loops and tossing it as well to the ground in one fluid motion. When he goes for the button on his pants, Nasir sits up to assist him, covering Agron's large fingers with his own. 

“Let me,” he murmurs, ducking his head as he finally gets them open, reaching a hand in to draw out Agron's cock. 

It's engorged with blood, pulsing under Nasir's fingers, dark red and leaking. He's so big, Nasir swears that no one has ever had a cock like Agron's. It's thicker than his fingers can wrap around, so long Nasir swears he can feel it in his stomach when he sucks him off, completely cutting off Nasir's breath when he slides down his throat. Nasir loves it though, the weight against his tongue, the saltiness of his seed filling Nasir, covering his throat and leaking between his thighs and rubbed into his skin. 

Reaching down, Agron grips Nasir's face in the palm of his hand, trailing his thumb along Nasir's full lips. He parts them willingly, reaching out to take the digit between plump lips, raising his eyes to Agron's when he sucks on the digit. He teases it like he would Agron's cock, twirling his tongue along the tip and sucking until his cheeks concave. It's beautiful, the way his dark eyelashes flutter, Nasir moaning sweetly. 

“You want it?” Agron asks, pulling his thumb free with a slick pop, leading Nasir's head down further with his grip on his chin. 

He takes his cock in hand, tapping it against Nasir's now bruised mouth, smearing precome across it and onto Nasir's cheek. It paints a trail of sticky white that Nasir's tongue comes out to chase, lapping at his bottom lip, inadvertently tasting Agron's skin. Indulging in it, Agron slaps his cock against Nasir's jaw, keeping him steady when Nasir tries to turn for it. He can't it yet, though the way Nasir shivers, he clearly wants it. 

“Please.” Nasir's gasp is half muffled from the way Agron's fingers are denting his cheek. 

“Please what?” Agron asks, smirking down at Nasir and nudging his cock back up against Nasir's full bottom lip, holding it there. 

“I want to taste you,” Nasir begs, hands coming up to claw at Agron's thighs. 

He whines so high for it when Agron presses closer, slipping just the tip between Nasir's gaping lips. Barely inside and Nasir is already moaning, hallowing his cheeks as he prods his tongue against Agron's slit, lapping at the salty skin and seed. He tries to move closer, but he's suspended on the edge of the bed and Agron stays still, not letting him sink to the floor. 

Smoothing his fingers through Nasir's hair, Agron grips it all in a fist at the back of his head, lifting it away from his face. He wants a clear view as he sinks himself further into the human's mouth, angling to drag along his cheek. It makes the perfect round circle against it, stretching the tan skin, and Agron trails his fingers over, feeling the heat from Nasir's wanting blush. 

Nasir twists his head as he goes down, bobbing over and over again, drool sliding down his chin. His blood pounds in his ears as he chokes himself, humming and swallowing around the thick head of Agron's cock. It fills him almost to his gut, smothering him in the sweat and scent of Agron, the musk filling his nose. 

Agron grips Nasir's hair tighter, beginning to guide his head when Nasir grows too sloppy, gasping air and closing his eyes. He's so pliant under Agron's guide, mouth continuing to suck, tongue sliding and tracing, but he relaxes to let Agron control him. Nasir's fingernail scratch at the back of Agron's thighs, grounding himself. He so easily is wrapped up in this, losing himself in the rhythm as Agron thrusts into his throat. 

“Agron!” Nasir pants, fluttering his eyes open when he pulls away, dragging his now wet cock along Nasir's jaw. 

“You want more?” Agron smirks, glancing down to see Nasir's cock dribbling, flushed a deep crimson almost purple. 

Nasir doesn't have to nod for Agron to know what he needs, already so in tuned with every one of Nasir's ticks. Gripping his sides, Agron lifts him and lightly tosses him back among the pillows, being mindful of his strength. Nasir begs for the full brunt of it nightly, but Agron can't – not yet, not while he's still so mortal. Agron follows him quickly, kneeling between Nasirs soft thighs. He presses feverish kisses along Nasir's jaw, moving his fingers down and down until he finds what he is looking for. 

A cry bursts from Nasir's throat as Agron's finger press against his opening, somehow already slick. Sometimes Agron moves too fast and Nasir can't catch it, inhuman speed and dexterity. He presses his middle finger insistently at Nasir's hole, smothering his whimpers in a kiss as he finally breaches the tiny body below him. Nasir doesn't resist it, spreading his legs even wider. 

Pumping his fingers within Nasir's body, Agron distracts him from the initial pain with slow, wet kisses, prying Nair's lips apart with his tongue. He can taste the wine in Nasir's mouth, probably snuck in as a gift from Pietros and Mira. They always want to make Nasir happy, spoil him almost as much as Agron does. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Nasir whines, squeezing his legs tightly around Agron's waist.

“How is it possible,” Agron pants, sweat dripping from his chest to Nasir's, fingers pressing deeper, “that you remain tight when I have fucked you raw?”

“Maybe,” Nasir answers, nipping at Agron's ear, “I was made for you.”

“I have been alive many years,” Agron confesses, slipping a third finger inside, “and I have never met anyone like you. You are singular, my little mortal prince, above all else.”

“Prove it,” Nasir pulls back, meeting Agron's gaze. 

With a snarl, Agron sinks his teeth into Nasir's chest as he slides his cock inside, mixing the pain with pleasure on both ends, drawing blood to pull Nasir into a haze. His body tightens under the initial bite, Nasir again crying out at the ceiling. It mixes with Agron's deep growl, inching in and in until he finally bottoms out, nearly losing himself to pleasure. He manages to pause, though his body screams for him to move, waiting to adjust. 

Nasir's fingers curl tightly in Agron's hair, holding his mouth firmly to Nasir's chest. He lets him drink and drink, heady swimming. His body clenches with each draw, tightening and then releasing, milking Agron's still cock until he can't take it anymore. Arching his back, Nasir digs his heels into the bed and slides against Agron's cock, trying to get Agron to move. 

Agron understands the signs, releasing his teeth to pull back and grip Nasir's hips in his hands. The first slide is like scalding heat up Agron's spine, pleasure urged on by the blood in his mouth and the heat wrapped around his cock. He can't help but slide back down roughly, moving Nasir up against the bed from the force. It lights a different sort of fire inside of him, and Agron does it again and again, speeding up his thrusts with each increased level of roughness. 

The bed shakes under them, headboard slamming into the wall enough to chip the plaster. It's a wonder they haven't broken it yet, with how often they force it to bow under them. Agron pushes Nasir up with his hips and drags him back down with his hands, chasing the trail of blood from the wound on his chest down and over his nipple, biting into it with blunt even teeth. He's so addicted to the sounds Nasir makes, whining and begging and sighing so sweetly against Agron's ear. His bracelets jingle and click with every thrust, belt of rubies and gold eventually snapping under the friction, sticking to his skin with sweat. 

Goosebumps break out across Nasir's chest when Agron moves his mouth across it, pinning him roughly to the bed. By the end of it, he's sure he'll be covered in deep black and purple bruises, the type that he will press his fingers against later, think of Agron's body on his own when the vampire can't be around. It's a map across Nasir's skin, tell tale signs of his lust and affection. 

Drawing back completely, Agron spreads one of his hands over Nasir's side to guide him, the other reaches for Nasir's cock. He's so wet, half covered in sweat and his own precome, dripping down his thighs and between his legs. The scent of him, the musk of his blood and need fill Agron's nose, forcing his fangs out, dragging lightly across his bottom lip. 

Nasir can barely stand it, can't stand it, body succumbing to the pleasure of having Agron's fist stroking him just that way, cock spearing against his prostate in rough jabs. It's like his spine is made out of firecrackers, one sparking after another, each more intense until it feels as if his whole back is on fire. Agron's teeth sink into his neck, breaking skin, and the fire spreads and spreads and Nasir doesn't even realize he's screaming until he feels the seed coating his stomach, reaching high as his jaw. 

Growling, Agron raises himself up, mouth stained crimson, as his thrusts turn ragged. He shoves into Nasir without abandon, barely being able to hold back his true power. He could crush Nasir's neck with a quick hand, break his bones with a too sure grip, undo all his veins with a too intense bite. He can barely keep it back, but does for Nasir – for the sweet breath expanding his lungs, the blood filling his face as Nasir feverishly brushes his fingers up and across it and into his own hair. He yanks the inky strands to ground himself, and Agron lets him. 

“When you make me yours forever,” Nasir gasps, “I would have you do it just like this. With your cock and your fangs buried within me, killing me and giving me new life together.”

“You are mine forever,” Agron grits out between clenched teeth, “and I am yours.”

It's the broken little sob, the crying tears of too much pleasure, that finally gives Agron what he needs. He comes with a growl, body thrumming as he fills Nasir over and over with his seed, coating his walls, spilling out and onto his thighs. He can feel Nasir clenching on him, milking him and taking it all. He's so good like this, completely filled with pleasure and seed. 

Agron presses his palms down next to Nasir's sweaty face, lowering down to kiss along his cheek, trailing his lips to Nasir's puckered mouth. Nasir feels so tiny under him, completely covered by Agron's body, held against the sheets with no chance of movement. Agron laps slowly at the salt on Nasir's bottom lip, nuzzling their mouths together firm enough it feels as if they become one. Nasir can barely breathe but little gasps against Agron's tongue, cradling the vampire's head between his hands. 

After a few moments though, Agron must pull away, slowly withdrawing from Nasir and falling to his side. He doesn't let Nasir go far though, wrapping his arm around Nasir's shoulders and pulling him closer. Nasir turns into Agron, resting his head on the vampire's chest, petting a hand over his sweaty skin, and tossing a thigh over Agron's hip. 

“Do you promise,” Nasir smirks, bracelets tinkering as he caresses Agron's chest,“when I am turned immortal to fuck me like that every night?”

“I promise. Your strength and stamina will grow tenfold when you are turned though,” Agron replies with a grin, “We may never stop fucking.”

“I won't mind.” Nasir lays a kiss against Agron's chest, nibbling at it playfully. Agron cups the back of his head lovingly, straightening his headdress of rubies and gold chains. 

“Then I promise, when you're old enough and when you ask for it and truly mean it, I will bite you and turn you immortal,” Agron raises Nasir's jaw with a finger, leaning down to press their lips together. “And we will fuck and love forever.”

Nasir smiles slowly, face filling with soft light and joy. “I am willing to wait if it means forever with you.”

“Are you sure?” Agron asks, stroking lovingly at Nasir's cheek. 

“Yes.”

They seal it with a kiss with the promise of many more to come.


End file.
